


Broken Days, Broken Nights

by boxesofflowers, Eeyoreneedsahug



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: :(, Angst, Bullying, Doctor Isak, Eskild Tryggvason the Gay Guru, Eskild is the Mom Friend, Future Fic, Hate Crimes, Homophobia, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Isak's backstory, M/M, Major Character Injury, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Season/Series 01, Season/Series 02, Slurs, isak and even are married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-10-25 20:39:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10772010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxesofflowers/pseuds/boxesofflowers, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eeyoreneedsahug/pseuds/Eeyoreneedsahug
Summary: Isak gets jumped while walking back to the apartment. While hurt and in the hospital with Even by his side the entire time, his memories of middle school bullying and fights come rushing back.





	1. NOW

**Author's Note:**

> From the Prompts:
> 
> Prompt: Isak and the squad get into a fight because this group of homophobic guys attacked Isak. Even gets super protective rly fast.
> 
> I have this headcannon that Isak was severely bullied before he got to Nissen. I would love to read something where he and Even deals with the memories from it. The angstier the better! Thanks <3
> 
>  
> 
> Title from Conqueror by AURORA

“Isak, what’s going on? Where are you?” Even’s voice is urgent over the phone, and Isak tries to concentrate on the sound of his voice. His vision is swimming in and out, and he can taste something bright and hot and metallic.

“I need you-” he chokes, gasping through the pain in his ribs. His head aches from where it hit the pavement, and his thoughts aren’t coming as easily as they should.

“Isak! Isak! You have to tell me where you are.” The urgency in Even’s voice is raw.

“Walking home…” Isak can’t see well enough to pinpoint exactly where in the trip he’s stopped - all he knows is that it’s dark and it’s cold and he’s all alone. He was going back to the apartment. Their apartment.

“Ok, you stay there, I’m coming. Can you tell me what happened?” It’s getting hard to hold the phone up to his ear, his hands are shaking.

“These guys…” Had he known them? He isn’t sure now. “They called me a fag.” He hears Even take a sharp breath. “I got punched and then-”

“It’s ok,” Even says quickly. “Just stay put. Stay awake Isak. Please. I’ll find you. Stay on the line.” Isak relaxes into the ground. He’s not really sure what Even is trying to get him to do. He knows it’s important. It feels sharp to breathe. He knows that that isn’t a good sign but everything seems too difficult. His vision blurs and the world goes dark.

\---

He wakes to hands on his face. He recognizes the touch but he’s struggling to get a clear picture of whatever is going on. He opens his mouth to speak, but his lips feel tacky and dry. There must be a split on his upper because it stings - salty and hot. His breath is coming in small gasps - there’s a vice grip on his ribs.

Even’s face finally becomes clear, and the way he looks - torn and worried and panicked - makes Isak start to sob. The hot band of pain around his ribs becomes, if possible, more agonizing.

“Hey, hey, relax,” Even says, his voice quiet and wavering. A shock of his blonde hair is peeking out from underneath his hat, and Isak reaches up with trembling fingers to touch it. He leaves a streak of red on Even’s forehead, and the older boy takes his wrist gingerly. “Did you hit your head?” Isak nods but isn’t sure why that’s important. Even’s scarf looks like it’s swallowing him. His head is in some woolen bird’s nest. Isak tries to smile. He always thinks Even’s face looks so delicate - his big blue eyes make him seem so fragile. 

Then, Even is talking to somebody who isn’t there.

“Yeah, an emergency. I-I don’t know. Somewhere in Grünerløkka. I don’t know the street. We’re by a bus stop but I don’t know if that helps...I’ll try to get street signs...Uh, it looks like he got beaten up and he hit his head, he’s bleeding a lot...” Is he? Isak doesn’t know. 

Isak’s eyes keep slipping shut, but Even shakes him every time he comes close to sleep.

“Stay awake. Look at me,” he’s saying, but he sounds so far away. “What hurts?”

Everything, Isak wants to say, but he can’t make his voice work properly. He lets his head rest in Even’s hands. He hopes the red that’s all over his face doesn’t stain Even’s jacket. Even loves that jacket.

“Isak, are you with us?” There’s a woman’s voice, and Even’s hands are gone and Isak feels cold and his shirt is damp. It’s Eskild’s shirt - the one with the crucifix. He hopes it isn’t ruined. “What’s your birthday?”

“99,” he manages, and there’s a stab of pain from his chest. He knows that there are more numbers he should remember, but he can’t. There’s prodding at his ribs, something around his arm, and something is strapped over his face. It smells sharp and a little sweet.

“Spell your name for me,” the woman says, and he hears Even start to speak. “No, he needs to do it.”

“I-S…” he mumbles. There’s a sharp prick on the back of his hand. “A-K.”

“We’re going to pick you up,” her voice says, and there are hands under his shoulders and legs. Then, he’s on an uncomfortable bed and she says, “These are just seatbelts. Ok? You’re safe.” Then they’re moving, and he can’t lift his hand to search for Even’s. Where did Even go? He thinks he should say something but his mouth feels...heavy?

“Can I stay with him?” There he is. God, he hurts so bad. Something cold is moving from the prick on the back of his hand up his arm and into his chest.

“Yeah, you just need to make sure you’re not standing in the way of any of the medics.” There’s a bump and the uncomfortable bed shakes and then it’s very very bright. Too bright. He tries to squint. It doesn’t work. Even’s fingers are stroking his hair, and Isak tries to move his head to look at him. A rougher hand holds his chin in place, so Even makes up the difference.

“Everything’s gonna be fine,” he whispers, and Isak tries to nod.

\---

The next time he’s aware of what’s going on, it’s only for a split second, and someone is cutting off his shirt. He wants to protest, but before he can the world goes dark.

\---

When he wakes up for good it’s in a different bed, in a different place, and his mouth is dry. The room has big windows and a lot of beeping monitors and a familiar blonde boy asleep in a too-small chair, his long legs cramped and curled, and his fragile face still.

“Even,” he says, his voice breaking. There’s a mask on his face and a needle in his arm and something wrapped tight around his ribs. Even’s big blue eyes open, and it only takes him a moment to realize what’s going on and reach forward to touch Isak’s cheek. His fingers are cold.

“Halla,” Even whispers, a little smile playing on his lips.

“I don’t feel good,” he whispers back. The little smile grows.

“Think I could’ve guessed that one, baby.” His thumb makes small circles on Isak’s face.

“What’s happening?” Even sighs.

“You got jumped, remember?” The memories come rushing back. Someone he vaguely recognized shoving him. Isak shoving him back. Then, getting punched, hitting the ground, kicks lighting up his chest and his back and his face and his stomach. Everywhere, pain. The word “faggot.” Wiping his mouth, his hand coming back red. “You’re hurt really bad. I had to call an ambulance. Now...we’re at the hospital. They were afraid you had internal bleeding so you got admitted.”

“Wha...What’s wrong with me?” Internal bleeding seems...too serious. 

“Well, you have some broken ribs, a concussion, one second -” Even leans back, reaching into his jacket pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. He unfolds it with shaking fingers. “Ok, uh, hematomas on the abdomen, chest, and face, possible abdominal perforation, possible hemothorax - that’s the bleeding, I think. FUO - fuck, I don’t remember what that stands for. I can ask next time someone comes in but it didn’t seem like a huge deal.” Even’s voice is getting quieter as he keeps going. “Shit, I can’t read my writing - split laceration on the upper lip, and severe epistaxis. The guy was talking really fast, I figured it was important though so I tried to get it all.”

That’s when Isak realizes - Even’s the only one here. Even’s the only one. The thought makes him simultaneously happy and sad. Even had scribbled down notes on a piece of scrap paper. Even had ridden in the ambulance.

“You’re on the list for an MRI and an X-ray, so hopefully in the next couple hours you’ll get those and then we’ll know how long you have to stay,” he finishes. Isak tries to take a deep breath. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, Isak.” Even frowns and looks down. Isak can tell that he’s trying hard not to cry. His breathing is exaggeratedly steady.

“It’s ok.” Even’s face hardens.

“It’s not. I’m...I would fucking kill those guys. I would fucking kill them. Bigoted assholes - I can’t believe I let this happen.” He sets his jaw. Even doesn’t normally get angry, and if he does, he’s very good at keeping it below the surface, but this is different. He’s absolutely livid.

“It’s not your fault.” Isak’s whole body is hurting, and he’s starting to wonder what’s in his IV. Why isn’t it working?

“I called your father and he said he was coming but that was uh,” Even takes a deep breath, “That was 23:00 and it’s 12:00 now, so.” Even doesn’t finish, but Isak knows what he would say. _So, he’s not coming._ “Eskild is actually on his way with Noora, I called them before I fell asleep. Jonas was really worried too but he can’t come for a little while.”

“It’s fine, I don’t care. Ev - is there some water?” His thirst has gotten too much to ignore, and he’ll do anything to shift the conversation off of his parents’ lack of involvement.

“Yeah, yeah of course,” he says, but before he can do anything about it, a short, dark-haired woman in scrubs walks in.

“God morgen Mr. Valtersen. I’m sure your brother has explained a little of what’s been going on, ja?” Isak throws a look at Even who gives a subtle nod. Only family members are allowed information, and Isak knows there was no way Even was going to leave him all alone.

“Uh, a little. My brother Even.” The words feel funny in his mouth. 

“You’re very lucky to have someone so sweet - he was up all night for you.” Even blushes visibly. “Talked to you the entire time too. Very touching,” the nurse says, smiling.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Even brushes off, but knowing that makes Isak feel the smallest bit better.

“So, Mr. Valtersen -”

“Just call me Isak please.” The nurse nods.

“Ok, Isak, how is your pain? 1 being no pain, 10 being the worst imaginable.” He takes a moment to assess what degree of pain he’s actually experiencing. His head is throbbing, breathing is torture, and his stomach - of all things - is in agony. The various bruises ache too, but they’re drowned out by everything else. 

“Um, 7? 8 maybe?” he doesn’t want to overestimate and sound insincere, but then again, he can’t imagine a worse pain than this. It hurts more now than it did then by a long shot, and even when he broke his nose in middle school his headache wasn’t this awful. Even frowns, taking his hand.

“There’s no right or wrong answer, that’s fine. Has someone come to talk to you about an MRI?” Even jumps in, much to Isak’s relief.

“Someone had discussed it with me, but nobody’s come in to take him yet.”

“Right, well considering the pain level and the concerns we already had, your schedule will probably fast-tracked.”

“What does that mean?” Even asks and the nurse looks over from one of the monitors. 

“Oh, just that he’ll be marked priority and we’ll be able to treat whatever’s going on a lot faster. It’s not any red flag, he’s stable.”

“This is a weird question but what’s FUO?” Even asks, and the nurse frowns.

“Fever of unknown origin, but as far as I can tell that’s not part of his case at this point -”

“No, the doctor this morning said FUO, I wrote it down. He has a fever?” Even sounds decidedly worried, but the nurse just looks confused.

“I can talk to the doctor as soon as he gets back and see what he was referring to, but we haven’t been monitoring his temperature.” She sighs. “Uh, alright. One second, I’ll be right back.” She walks out of the room, and Even quickly touches Isak’s forehead. 

“I can’t tell,” he murmurs, and Isak shakes his head weakly, the world spinning in response. He closes his eyes, swallowing down a wave of nausea. Was he supposed to be nauseous with a concussion?

“I’m fine. I swear. Why would I have a fever?” He means it as a rhetorical example of an absurdity but Even frowns, brushing the younger boy’s hair from his face with gentle fingers.

“I don’t know.”

The nurse walks back into the room, attaching a new sheet of paper to her clipboard, tucking some of her hair behind her ear.

“Ok, so, here’s the situation. Dr. Hansen had suspected a perforation which I’m sure he told you, but that was only because of the fever that Isak developed and the fact he’d been vomiting, but it wasn’t severe so it wasn’t slated as a primary concern. I’m very sorry, we can start looking at that right away.” Isak doesn’t remember throwing up, but the way his stomach aches he doesn’t doubt that it happened. A perforation. Even had said the same thing, but Isak still doesn’t know what it means.

“If he has a fever, what does that mean?” 

“Blunt trauma is very serious, and it can create major complications, including internal ruptures that can lead to infections and things of that nature. Because he hasn’t had his CT we don’t know for sure about any of that, but like I said, he’ll be fast tracked.”

“Complications,” Even repeats, and the nurse nods. “But he’ll be fine.”

“That’s very likely. Quickly, Isak, I need to do some checks, alright?” He swallows thickly and finds himself nodding. “Ok, that’s great. Look here please?” She shines something bright into his eyes quickly before putting it away. “Good. Now I’m gonna check out your chest, alright? Do you need some privacy?” She looks at Even pointedly.

“No, it’s ok.” She nods and pulls down the blanket, exposing the mass of bruises. Most of them are near his right side, along his rib cage, and looking at them makes him start to cry. He’s too tired to sob, but he feels a tear drip down the side of his face. Only Even seems to notice, and he wipes it gently away with his thumb.

The nurse puts the blanket back and quickly runs something over his forehead. She pauses for a moment when she gets the reading, biting her lip.

“Can I have something to drink?” Isak finally asks, which seems to snap her out of her daze. She takes a deep breath.

“I would love to give you something but right now surgery is a major possibility, so the less you take in the better. Um,” she trails off, looking down at her clipboard, tapping her pen against the hard surface. “I’m going to go touch base with the doctor that’s on duty, and we’ll get you in for that scan as soon as possible.” It’s obvious she’s holding back information, but Even doesn’t press her, so Isak figures it can’t be too important. She leaves, and Even immediately kisses Isak’s forehead, drawing the slightest of smiles from the pale boy.

Even’s phone starts to vibrate from the pocket of his coat, and he swears, fumbling for it. He has trouble for a moment before finally answering.

“Halla?” He keeps one hand on Isak’s cheek while he listens to the person on the other end of the line. “Uh, ja. _At er greit_ 1...Nei. But he’s awake...Nei, Eskild, _jeg er bra._ 2. I slept...I swear...No, I’m not sure. Just ask the woman at the reception desk, she can tell you. All I know is that it’s not ER and the room is _jaevla liten_ 3...Ok. _Ser deg snart._ 4” He hangs up, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

“Eskild?” Isak asks and Even nods.

“Yeah. He was asking me about which door he’s supposed to come in, apparently, there are like 10 different ones.”

“How could someone have hurt me this bad?” The question makes Even’s face drain of color.

“How, like uh, morally? Or how logistically?” Even is biting his lip.

“I guess, how is a person strong enough to cause this much damage? Surgery and stuff, it just seems excessive.” Even lets out a bitter little laugh.

“You think all this is excessive?”

“No, just...I don’t know. I got beat up, it’s not such a big deal. Everyone’s acting like I got hit by a car.”

“Is this some kind of...insecurity? About getting hurt? You feel like you’re not tough enough?” It’s not until Even says the words out loud that Isak actually realizes it’s the truth. “Because if so, that’s complete and utter shit. You said there were four or five guys?” He doesn’t remember telling Even that, but it’s true. He nods. “Bodies are fragile, that’s just how it is. I just count myself lucky that you’re not…” Even takes a deep breath. “It’s ok. Alt er chill.”

Isak forces himself to smile, leaning into Even’s hand. His head is throbbing - he can’t wait for surgery. He doesn’t know what it’s on exactly, but if he’s lucky they’ll put him under and he won’t have to feel so shitty for a little while. He rests like that for a little while, wishing he could take the oxygen mask off so he can smell Even. It’s strange, but he loves the way Even smells. Sort of like lavender, which is ironic considering Eskild’s complaints. 

Someone bursts into the room, and it takes Isak a moment to recognize Noora. She doesn’t look any different, but it’s hard to process any information.

“Hei, Isak,” she says, and Eskild walks in quickly behind her, looking much more frantic. He sighs heavily when he sees Isak, pressing his lips into a line.

“What am I going to do with you, huh?” He asks, mock-exasperated. “My little baby.” He pulls up one of the chairs from where it’s tucked against the wall and sits down, touching Isak’s hair carefully. 

“Hei, Eskild.”

“Jesus you sound like shit,” he says, and Noora sits down next to him, wrinkling her nose.

“Give him a break,” she says, mostly teasing. Eskild rolls his eyes.

“Our relationship is special Noora, you wouldn’t understand. He knows I love him. _Riktig_ 5?” Isak gives a little nod, and Eskild smiles. “See?”

“OK,” she says, exaggerating, and Isak looks over at Even, who’s suppressing a yawn.

“Ev, you can go if you need to,” he says, and Even shakes his head.

“Nei, I’m alright.” Eskild narrows his eyes.

“Have you slept, Even?” He looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Uh, not yet, but I’m ok. I took a little nap earlier - 10 minutes, so I think I’m ok for now,” he says, and Eskild raises his eyebrows.

“Hmm. Well, we’re here now, so why don’t you go home for a bit?” Even scoffs.

“No way, it’s fine, really.” He seems to sense that Eskild is still skeptical, so he continues. “He’s getting a couple scans in a bit, and I’m not allowed in anyway, so I could always sleep then.”

“You’d better, or Noora here will chop your head off, right Noora?” Eskild says. She smiles.

“Right. Now, fill me in on what exactly is going on?” Eskild gives her a look. “What? Not any of the bad stuff, just what’s happening now.” They look expectantly at Isak who just shrugs. Well, as much as he can shrug lying like he is.

“You have to ask Even.” There’s another jab of pain in his stomach and he winces, letting out a shaky breath. The older boy places a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“It’s a long list, but what they know for sure is that he’s got a concussion and broken ribs. The internal bleeding is what he’s in for but they don’t even know whether that’s happening, so, we’re just waiting on tests and things.” For the first time, Eskild looks completely straight-faced.

“Fuck,” he finally says, and Noora shoots Even a look that Isak can’t decipher. She’s not wearing any makeup, which is odd to see. She’s almost always wearing her red lipstick.

“Everything is gonna be fine,” Even says, not to anyone in particular. 

Isak feels his eyelids getting heavier, but he’d feel guilty if he fell asleep with Eskild having just shown up. Really though, it’s not up to him. His body is exhausted, and no matter how much he’d love to stay up, he’s too tired to stay awake much longer.

\--

When he wakes up again, it’s because he’s moving. Immediately, someone is talking to him.

“Isak? You awake bud?” It’s not a voice he knows, but he figures he better respond.

“Yeah.” He’s immediately aware of how much harder it is to speak, and how much harder he has to work to get air in and out.

“That’s great. We’re just taking you over for a couple little tests, no worries,” the voice continues, and Isak feels himself nodding.

“MRI?”

“No, we did that a few hours ago with the X-ray. We’re going for a CT.” Isak nods like he remembers, but he can’t recall any of it. 

“What, uh, what was the…” He can’t quite form the question he wants to ask. It’s frustrating, all his thoughts are flying in different directions and he can’t seem to pin any of them down.

“MRI clarified no bleeding in your brain which is good news. X-ray confirmed broken ribs.”

“Where…” He doesn’t have enough breath to finish.

“Your brother is back in your room taking a nap. He’s just fine.” It takes Isak longer than it should for him to remember that Even is pretending to be his brother. He’s sleeping. That’s good. Even deserves to get some sleep.

The whole process only takes a few minutes, but by the end of it, Isak is exhausted again. He falls asleep on the way back to the room and only wakes up when somebody starts gouging at one of his veins with a needle. He whines, but his arm is held in place.

His whole body feels cold, he’s shaking with chills, and it’s ridiculous, but the only thing he wants is for Even to hold him. He’s convinced if Even’s arms are around him, nothing is going to hurt. He’ll be warm and safe and nothing is going to hurt.

“Ev…” Immediately, a hand is on his face. It’s warm, and he lets out a shuddering sigh.

“Sir, we need you to step back.” The needle in his arm twists and Even’s hand is gone, and Isak whimpers quietly.

“Even, pl-please.” He’s crying, shivering, hurting. There’s the sound of a scuffle, and the other voice comes back.

“Sir, if you don’t step back we’re going to remove you from the room.”

“Isak, you’re ok, just relax, it’s alright,” Even’s voice says. “You’re alright. You’re alright. You’re al…” his voice fades. 

\--

Isak wakes up in considerably less pain and almost immediately realizes it’s been a few days since he’s been awake. Christ, what happened?

Even is talking to someone. Even is talking to him.

“Hei, Ev,” he mumbles, and Even smiles.

“Hey, my baby. How do you feel?”

“Better.” Even looks like he could be on the verge of tears.

“That’s good. That’s so good.” He runs his hand through Isak’s hair gently, not taking his eyes off the younger boy for even a moment.

“I had a surgery,” Isak says, though he means it as a question. Even nods.

“Mmhmm. Your guts got messed up and it was making you really sick but you’re ok now. Everything’s ok,” he says, his voice even and quiet and warm. Isak takes a deep breath, wincing slightly. His ribs don’t hurt quite as badly.

“Perforation.” Again, he means it as a question, though it doesn’t sound like one.

“Yeah, that’s what it was. You had an infection. But it's not important right now.”

“What is?”

“That you’re safe.”

“I’m...I’m not safe. We’re never gonna be safe.” Even frowns. “I’m a faggot.”

“No. Stop.”

“It’s always been like this.” Isak starts to think about the days before Nissen. With Eva and Jonas and his black eyes and broken noses and how every day he’d hear the word “faggot.” He thought things had changed.

Have they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 That's fine  
> 2 I'm good  
> 3 Fucking tiny  
> 4 See you soon  
> 5 Correct
> 
> Send us prompts [HERE](http://poeandbeaux.tumblr.com/ask)  
> [Chloe’s tumblr](http://chloebeaux.tumblr.com)!  
> [Priscilla’s tumblr ](http://boxesofflowers.tumblr.com)!  
> 


	2. THEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fairly traumatic tbh. Ummmm...we were feeling the angst apparently. Hugs to everyone in advance?

He can feel the heat of the pavement through his shoes. He doesn’t think he’s ever run this fast (and he’s run a lot, especially in this past year). He’s sticky with sweat and it stings as it drips into his eyes. He doesn’t want to look over his shoulder because if he does he will see how close they are and they are too close. 

“Fucking fag!” He hears, and he tries to run faster. He just has to make it to Jonas’s house. Only to Jonas’s, then he’ll be ok. His lungs are burning.

“Little fucking bitch!”

He sees the door to Jonas’s apartment and prays he’ll answer. He stops, pounding his fist against the wood, barely able to breathe.

“Jonas!” He chokes out, and there’s the sound of footsteps on the other side. Just as he hears the lock click, there’s a hand on his shoulder, pulling him backward. He hits the asphalt, and all the breath rushes out of him. Someone’s looming over him, and a moment later a fist connects with his face. There’s a bright spike of pain and he feels tears start to well up in his eyes. He tries to call for Jonas again, but when he opens his mouth he only tastes blood. A sob rips out of him as the pain shoots through his skull, and he hears Jonas’s voice.

“Assholes! Get the fuck out of here!” he shouts, and there’s the sound of a scuffle before more footsteps. Isak tries to push himself up, but he can barely see straight. Jonas’s hands are on his shoulders. “Oh my god, Isak.”

“I...I’m sorry,” he mumbles, and Jonas frowns.

“Stop it,” he says, and somehow Isak is sitting up. Jonas touches the side of his nose and Isak feels tears slip down his cheeks. “Come inside.”

10 minutes later, Isak is sitting on the Vasquez’s couch, wearing one of Jonas’s t-shirts - his own is covered in blood, soaking in the sink. He’s holding a wad of paper towels under his nose, trying not to cry. He’s 15 for fuck’s sake. He shouldn’t be crying.

“This has to stop happening,” Jonas says and sets down two mugs of tea on the coffee table. He sits down next to Isak on the couch.

“I know.”

“Have you asked your mom to talk to the school?” he asks and there's a long pause. Isak hasn't explained why that would be a horrible idea to Jonas, but he seems to read the lack of response correctly. “Your dad?” He tries again. More silence. 

“It's fine. I'm ok.”

“I thought we just said it wasn’t ok, Isak.”

“I don’t want them to worry,” he says. They wouldn’t even notice. They are either not around (Papa), fighting, or locked away in their room (Mama).

“They should be worried. Your nose could be broken,” Jonas says, and Isak shakes his head.

“It’s ok.”

“You know you can talk to me whenever right? If you ever need someone...I’ll be here,” Jonas says. Isak can feel his heart skip a beat. He knows that Jonas doesn’t mean it that way. He knows that there is a very (very) slim chance he’s anything but absolutely entirely straight, but still. Why does he even care? He isn’t even gay himself.

\---

Jonas is there for him a lot. What had been an every other day occurrence becomes every day. Sometimes he can escape but most of the time he gets cornered too far away from one of his precious few safe spaces. Jonas is always there, though. He patches him up, talks to his teachers behind his back (Isak didn’t appreciate that but the thought was nice), and even brings him lunch one day when he admitted to being too scared to go into the lunchroom. 

One day, walking home, Isak sees them standing across the street. The group of boys that seem intent on making his life hell. He tries not to look. To pretend they’re not there. He can’t. 

“Is that little Isabel?” One of them shouts, and Isak starts to walk faster. Eva’s house is somewhat close, but too far to really run to (and are they even friends or is she just the girl who’s friends with Jonas’s girlfriend and doesn’t make fun of him?). There’s a wolf whistle and his heart starts to hammer in his throat. “Where are you going? See your boyfriend?” The group laughs. “Jonas, Jonas!” One of them says, trying to imitate his voice.

They start to cross the street and he pulls out his phone with shaking hands, dialing Jonas’s number. It starts to ring just as he starts to run. Where is he going? He’s not sure. Home? Alright. Home.

 _Ring._ His chest is heaving.

 _Ring._ He hears them starting to shout. “Little twink!”

“Isak?” Jonas’s voice is on the other end of the line.

“I need help,” he manages to get out. “I-I’m not gonna make it home.”

“It’s ok, I’ll be there. I’ll be there.”

He ends up in the ER with two broken ribs and Jonas by his side. Usually, it’s not so bad. Just a bruise or a cut - not broken bones. He leaves with a recommendation from a nurse to take Tylenol and stay away from boys who don’t like him.

On the tram home, Jonas holds his hand, and Isak’s heart doesn’t stop pounding until he lets go.

That night he lays in bed, trying to ignore the throbbing with each breath, thinking about Jonas and the words “faggot” and “twink.”

\---

Jonas has been his friend forever, or at least it feels like that. They had been in the same class since they left their preschools and joined the larger school. Isak had long, golden hair. Jonas had eyebrows that looked like wooly caterpillars and a Spanish last name. They bonded quickly over being the last to be picked for any activity, from art to sports.

Jonas outgrew his teasing when it became clear that he really didn’t care. So what he wasn’t blonde like 90% of the other kids? He could already play 6 songs on the guitar _and_ it wasn’t a child sized one (even though that was probably what he needed).

Isak wasn’t so lucky. 

“Princess!” 

“You look like a little girl!”

“Are you Jonas’s sister?”

He hated it. Jonas never left his side (not even when he became a cool kid because he decked Anders for trying to steal Isak’s wallet in their third year of primary school (and the next year, and pretty much every time he had a chance to start a fight)).

It wasn’t until Jonas started dating that Isak realized he had feelings for him other than purely...friends have for other friends. But of course, he would. After all, Jonas was family. He always protected him god dammit, and included him even when he didn’t necessarily have to.

He’d never once made fun of him for anything. Not like the others had. Sure, he teased him if he said something particularly nerdy or silly, but he never went after him for...well anything.

When it all got too much when he was in their fifth year of primary school, Jonas was the only one who was around to help him cut off all of his hair. His parents didn’t even notice for almost a week.

\---

Jonas has always been there for him. And then he’s not. He had had a girlfriend through their last year of Primary and all through their first year of Lower Secondary. Ingrid. Isak can see why she liked him so much. He was kind, good at skateboarding, passionate about capitalism...handsome. Jonas had hung out with his girlfriends, sure, but it wasn’t until the summer before first year that it became a problem. 

He was always going to parties and get togethers with Ingrid (and Sara and Eva and all of the rest of the girls who either joined in and laughed at him or stayed too silent in the corner). Isak had tried going over a few times but he wasn’t there (was never there no one was).

Jonas had never laughed at him. He had never joined in. And then...he did. 

It was like any other day. Jonas and Isak had met up near Isak’s house (even though it was a bit out of the way) and they walked into school together.

“I just really like Katy Perry’s music,” he says, and Jonas laughs.

“That’s so gay, though,” he says, and a few of the other boys laugh too. Isak feels his face start to flush but makes himself laugh. He feels like he can’t breathe.

“I guess. She’s just like...I don’t know,” he says.

“She’s fucking hot. I would tap that,” one of the older boys says and some of them wolf whistle and agree.

“Nah man. Too weird,” another guy says.

“What about you Isak?” The first asks.

“I guess?” Isak says hesitantly. 

“You guess?” He repeats in astonishment.

“You’re just digging yourself a hole here, buddy,” Jonas says. Isak feels his stomach sink.

“Ummm...well Madonna…” he trails off. 

“Still gay,” Jonas says and the rest laugh. 

It’s like he doesn’t know Jonas in that moment. All he wants is to reach over and get a hug but that would be...too gay. He can’t let them think that. It might have been funny to them when he was young (and just another reason to beat him up) but now it isn’t right. He can’t be gay. It’s not right to be gay.

 

\---

Jonas is changing and it’s all Eva’s fault. Sure they’ve gone from being just acquaintances to actual friends who skype for hours (Eva even knows about his panic attacks), but he can’t help but resent her. She has waltzed in and taken his best friend.

Jonas doesn’t walk to school with him anymore. He walks with Eva. 

Jonas doesn’t always pick up. 

The first time he shows up at Jonas’ house after he doesn’t answer his phone, it takes him several minutes to work up the courage to knock. His face is fucked up and he knows that he has tears tracking their way down his face. It takes a while for anyone to answer. It’s Eva. 

“What the fuck?” Eva asks, seeing his face.

“Where’s Jonas?” He asks, brushing past her into the house.

“In the shower. Why?” She says and Isak’s stomach turns. He walks over to the bathroom door. He starts banging on it as soon as he reaches it.

“Jonas! Jonas,” he calls.

“Isak?” He responds, sounding confused. 

“I’m coming in. I need the first aid kit.”

“What the fuck. Are you ok?” Jonas asks as Isak barges in, decisively not looking toward the shower.

“The usual. It’s fine. Did you get more alcohol wipes?” He asks, digging through the drawer where the first aid kit has been scattered. “You needed new ones.” The shower turns off and he hears Jonas step out and wrap a towel around his waist. He puts a hand on Isak’s shoulder.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Jonas looks almost hurt.

“I did. I guess you were busy.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out so bitter, but once it does he won’t take it back. He keeps looking through the drawer, starting to see spots.

“I don’t understand,” Eva says, leaning in the doorway. “What’s going on?”

“Isak has a bloody nose. It’s alright,” Jonas says and touches Isak’s cheek, frowning. “I thought those guys stopped bugging you.”

“No.”

“You sure you’re ok, Isak?” Eva asks, clearly concerned, but he can’t help but feel resentful. 

“It’s not broken, so that’s good,” Jonas remarks, and Isak frowns.

“Have you really not noticed this? You didn’t move here yesterday,” Isak says in Eva’s direction, and it comes out far harsher than he intended.

“Woah there. She isn’t the one you’re mad at dude,” Jonas says, pressing a hand into Isak’s chest in an attempt to calm him down.

“Am I...am I interrupting something?” Eva asks.

“What do you mean?” Jonas asks.

“I just...this is pretty gay?” She teases, smiling slightly.

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Isak asks, his voice breaking. He has to bite back tears.

“She’s just teasing, Isak. She knows we’re not gay,” Jonas says, winking at Eva, who rolls her eyes. “Now let’s get you cleaned up.”

Later, when Isak is crying on Jonas’s shoulder, Eva will pretend not to hear. It’s the least she can do. 

\---

The year continues on. Isak isn’t exactly hostile toward Eva, but he is nowhere as friendly as she had (probably) hoped. It’s a bit weird between all of them. Isak’s only friends are Jonas (and now Eva) and he’s used to that. Jonas is used to being effortlessly popular but he could care less. Eva, however, is struggling with her drastic fall in social standing. She’s barely talked to anyone besides Jonas and Isak at school since June. There are some girls, but almost everyone knows what she did. Isak understands that. 

Almost no one wants to talk to him either (even though he’s no longer the complete bottom of the social food chain). They all remember when he was awkward and girly. He’s changed. People don’t seem to get that.

\---

The cabin should have been fun. He likes Jonas. He even likes Eva (even though being around her sometimes makes his stomach roll).

“You only know gay songs,” Jonas says. It hurts but not as much as it would normally. They’re all alone. It’s friendly teasing. (Jonas wouldn’t care would he?)

“Shut up!” Isak retorts quickly. “Is that a gay song?” He asks. He doesn’t understand why people seem to know something he doesn’t know. What makes that a gay song? What is he missing?

He decidedly does not like Elias (and Jonas knows that. Why would he invite him? Even with the weed, why would he do that?). 

“Where should I sleep?”

“In the bedroom with Isak.” (Why Jonas? Why would you do that?)

“I’ll sleep with the gay guy?”

“Why is everyone calling me gay?”

“You are gay,” Elias had said, and though Jonas hadn’t laughed, he hadn’t defended him either.

You are gay. The words are rolling around inside his head and making knots in his stomach. 

When Isak wants to turn to Eva later, when he wants to cry, he really wishes he hadn’t made fun of her so much. He’s just (jealous)…he doesn’t know what. 

 

 

\---

Knowledge is power. In one (backstabbing, gossipy, cruel) move, he stops being the ultimate loser. He climbed over Eva in order to save himself. He worries about how she’ll do at the bottom of the social order. He even cleans her up after a few fights. He’s incredibly guilty, but he can’t take it back now. 

It doesn’t take Eva very long to find out. (She even makes sure he’s ok before she rips into him. Why did he sacrifice her to the social order? “Me and Jonas are back together.” That’s why.) When she asks him why he almost thinks he can tell her the truth.

“You really don’t know why?”

“No, I really don’t know why!” She bursts out. 

“Think about it.”

She hesitates. For a second...he’s sure she’ll say he’s gay. She knows. 

“What? Do you have…” she hesitates. She has to know. “Do you have…” Here it comes. She must see his face. “...feelings for me?” His face falls. His stomach drops. No, Eva.

“Like you didn’t know?” It’s easier to just agree. 

“No. I didn’t know,” she says, surprised. Confused. Points in her favor at least. There was never anything there. 

\---

He hooks up with lots of girls at parties over winter break. One girl wants to have sex, but he can’t...get it up. Even though he’s thinking about that third year. Chris.

\---

He gets a girlfriend, Sara, and somehow he can almost convince himself that he likes it when they kiss. He doesn’t know why, but Noora gives him pitying looks and asks if he wants to hang out at hers more that usual. Eva never brings up his “crush” and Isak is thankful that she was so repulsed that she didn’t follow easier. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come over?” Noora asks at one of the rare (but getting less so) occasions they are sitting together at lunch. “My roommates are really cool.” He is sure they are but he has no time and no motivation. He has to go home and make sure his Mama is eating, is sleeping, is not screaming at the neighbors. Is safe. 

“No thanks.”

“Ok. Maybe next time?” 

“Maybe.”

\---

Except Jonas has a girlfriend and his mother is getting sicker and everything is falling apart. 

\---

He meets Eskild a lot sooner than he thought he would. 

“Hey, baby. Are you ok?” He asks sidling up to where Isak is slumped over the bar top. Isak doesn't reply. “Isak, right?” He asks, squinting. Isak groans in affirmation. “Ok. Ummm...We should get you out of here,” he says, reaching over to grab Isak's shoulder to help him stand. Isak lashes out and Eskild jumps back a bit. “Ok calm down. Good job. Who taught you that?” He asks and Isak shrugs. “I'm not trying to hurt you.” 

“Why? Where are we going?” Isak asks, his words slurred.

“I'm a good person. I'm Noora’s flatmate,” he says and Isak can vaguely recognize the man who stars in several of Noora’s stories. “I'm trying to get you back to your house so you don't get hurt, ok?”

Isak is shaking his head and pulling away again before Eskild can even finish his sentence. 

“I can't go home. Don't make me go home. I can't do it anymore. I'll...I'll do anything. Don't make me go home.” 

\---

When Chris Schistad asks him to hang out, Isak doesn’t know what to think. Here ‘s one of the coolest, most badass guys in the school wanting to talk with him. He knows it’s just because of the fight. It’s just because he can help to spread information and orchestrate a revenge, but suddenly he isn’t a loser (at least in the eyes of someone popular and influential). 

He’s only gotten beaten up a couple of times since the start of the semester and one of those times was completely unrelated to school - he fell on a patch of ice and incidentally took out a (very violent) old lady with a walking stick. It would have been funny if it hadn’t hurt so much.

\---

When Chris checks out his ass, he isn't as uncomfortable as he thought he would be. It's not like he's gay. He's just...lonely. He likes the fact that he has a friend who isn't Jonas or a girl. 

\---

“Hey, baby Jesus.” Eskild has insisted on calling him that and he doesn't really know why. He’s living in the basement. It’s cold and damp, and he has to stay quiet so the landlord can’t hear that he’s there, but it’s a step up.

“Hey,” he replies, making sure to stay in the shadows.

“What are you doing all the way back there?” Eskild asks. “Do you need a hug?” Isak has spilled his entire family situation to Eskild as he drunkenly stumbled back to Kollectivet, and Eskild had immediately taken it upon himself to make sure that Isak knew he was now Eskild’s adopted baby brother. 

“No,” he says. He had gone so long without being beaten up that even the (relatively mild) cornering from earlier in the school day came as a shock. He didn’t want Eskild to worry or ask questions (because he would do both).

“I’m coming back there, ok?” Eskild says and Isak has barely any time to prepare himself for Eskild’s reaction. “What the fuck happened?” He says loudly. 

“It’s fine Eskild. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“It looks like something trampled on your face. Did someone trample on your face?” Eskild asks, concern apparent in his voice. 

“I...got into a fight,” Isak says quickly. Too quickly as Eskild’s expression become suspicious. 

“Show me your hands,” Eskild says, and Isak knows his lie will be discovered instantly. “Some fight if you didn’t get a chance to hit back,” he says drily. 

“Really, Eskild, I’m fine. I know how to handle this. It isn’t that bad,” Isak protests. 

“How long has this been going on?” Eskild asks, his eyebrows scrunching together. Isak mumbles. “What?”

“Since early in primary school,” he admits softly. “But really it’s gotten so much better. This doesn’t happen that much anymore. I think it was a wrong place at the wrong time kind of thing this time?” Isak quickly tries to explain. 

“This shouldn’t be the usual, Isak,” Eskild says patiently. Isak knows that coming from almost anyone else he’d be rolling his eyes. Eskild, though...he’s so rarely this serious. Isak knows he cares. 

“I know.”

“Why do they do this? Is it…” Eskild trails off. He knows the most likely reason (and considering the circumstances of their first meeting he’s pretty sure his hunch is close to correct), but he hopes that it’s something else. 

“It’s different guys now.”

“That doesn’t make it better,” Eskild says, shaking his head slightly. 

“Now it’s just general ‘you got in our way, we don’t like you,’ it isn’t…” He trails off.

“Isn’t what?” Eskild asks. Isak sighs.

“It isn’t because I’m a loser who looks like a girl and spends too much time with a single friend. It isn’t because they think I’m...gay.” He hesitates. “Not always.”

“Do you need help?” Eskild asks and Isak thinks it might be because he doesn’t really know what else to do. 

“Please don’t Eskild. I can handle it. I know what I’m doing.”

\---

After Noora moves out and he finally gets his own room, Eskild starts to talk to him about...serious things. 

“If you’re going to have sex you have to use lube. Use more than you think if you aren’t sure,” he says, and Isak blushes.

“I’m not gay. Not every guy is gay.” Eskild sighs.

“One of your friends could be. Maybe Jonas. He’s cute.” Isak rolls his eyes (he’d been thinking the same thing). “So I’m just...making sure you know about condoms and lube and HIV and all that. Ok?”

“Yeah.” As Eskild walks out the door, he stops in the doorway.

“Ok. Are you sure though? I don’t want you doing something dangerous because you haven’t thought it through or don’t know.”

“I’m sure.”

Later that night when they’re all sitting on the couch for “we never talk and we should pool our food and watch a movie that Linn can sleep through” night, Eskild is almost asleep when he hears a quiet “Thanks ‘skild.” It takes every ounce of control he has not to smile. 

\---

Isak was starting to think that this was the way things would always be. Lying to himself and his friends and hoping all these...feelings would go away.

Then he met Even.

He met Even and things changed. Things changed for good. Forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send us prompts [HERE](http://poeandbeaux.tumblr.com/ask)  
> [Chloe’s tumblr](http://chloebeaux.tumblr.com)!  
> [Priscilla’s tumblr ](http://boxesofflowers.tumblr.com)!  
> 


	3. SOON

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. It's finally done. Sorry for the wait. If you liked this, try out other works (which update regularly). :)

Isak is almost 28. He’s in the middle of his residency in the ER, working his ass off like he has since his first day of university. Minus the two weeks of his honeymoon - if he could even call it that - and the extra day in February he takes off every year for Even’s birthday.

It’s strange to think how even after all this time they’re still together. They were separated for the first year Isak was in university - they’d had trouble when Even started and mutually decided to...end it. It was on Even’s birthday that next year Isak showed up at the bench at Nissen only to find Even there too. From then on they were inseparable. 

Now they live together in a studio apartment in the center of Oslo, Even making films and doing wedding photography as a source of actual income, Isak working nonstop at the hospital. They have a cat named Alice and every other weekend they have dinner with Even’s parents at a little place a few blocks from the apartment. It’s amazing - Isak would say it’s almost perfect. 

Today though, he’s getting a reminder of when things...weren’t that way. When things seemed hopeless and dark and too much to handle.

There’s a boy in the triage office - his next patient - with a bloody nose. The report says it was a result of a “physical altercation.” Though it says in the paperwork the kid is 10, he doesn’t look older than 8 or 9. He’s tiny like Isak used to be. 

When Isak walks in, he feels his heart start to twist around in his chest. A lot of things he’s seen in the ER are awful - there’ve been 3 deaths so far, which is 3 more than he can handle - but none bother him as much as when the “physical altercation” box is checked on the forms he picks up. Luckily (if he can even say that) he’s a doctor, not a nurse, so he isn’t regularly holding gaping wounds closed or pulling objects out of people’s assholes (which happens a lot more frequently than he ever anticipated it would). He’s a doctor, so he has the duty (privilege? misfortune?) of actually diagnosing and treating whatever’s going on. And pronouncing deaths.

Still, the title of “doctor” is something he’s getting used to. Something he’s not completely at ease with. Yet.

The little boy’s mother is talking rapid fire about her son, and Isak is writing down as much of what’s relevant as he can. She mentions how there are boys who pick on him and call him names - which isn’t at all relevant to the actual situation at hand, but Isak is used to hearing about irrelevant details by now. She says her son had long hair - he’d loved his long hair - but cut it off with a pair of kitchen scissors because people kept calling him “princess.” She says she wishes her son was more confident. She wishes he would “stand up for himself for once.”

“Has he ever broken his nose before?” Isak asks, though he already knows the answer, just to get her to stop talking.

“No. He hasn’t.” Isak nods. He turns to face the boy, trying to determine how he should go about this. “I keep telling him, those boys wouldn’t pick on him if he just stood up for himself!” When Isak doesn’t respond, she turns to her son. “Why don’t you ask the doctor for his advice? If you won’t listen to me?”

The boy looks at him with a gaze Isak knows too well. Tired, scared, pleading - it’s the face Isak used to make when he’d look at his father. Silently begging for someone to do _something_. Anything.

“I’m going to touch your nose for a minute, it might hurt a little bit,” Isak says. 

“That’s ok,” the boy says quickly, and Isak gives him a small smile. 

He gently touches the bridge and knows, almost immediately, that it’s broken. 

“Hey, buddy. This is definitely a break.”

“I know,” he says.

“How?”

“The nurse at school. Plus, all the other times it never felt this bad.”

“Did it get stomped on?” He asks and the kid looks up sharply. 

“Uhhhh…yeah.”

“You’ll need to take really good care of it but it should heal up just fine,” Isak starts. “Look here,” he says tilting his own head and pointing at his nose. “Only a little bumpy and mine got broken several times.” The kid’s eyes widen.

“Did you box or something?” The mother asks from the other side of the room. Isak starts. He almost forgot she was listening.

“Ummm...Nope. I just...I got beat up a lot.” He tries to laugh off the comment but the mother doesn’t seem amused.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I was a long haired little kid. Then I was an out gay 2nd-year student.” The mother nods, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“What did you do?” The boy asks.

“What did I do?” Isak repeats. The boy looks at him expectantly. “About getting beaten up?”

“Yeah. I’ve tried...I have friend who knows how to not get beaten up. How did you do it?” 

“I...I found lots of people who liked me for me. I started...being proud of myself. Of who I was. Who I am. But some people are just jerks. Like…” Isak takes a deep breath, contemplating whether or not he should actually continue with the story. “Like, when I was a second year, I got hurt really badly by a group of guys who ended up…” He trails off again. “They went to the school I went to. I didn’t know that at the time. I recognized them months later and I told my,” he hesitates. What should he call Even? Boyfriend? Husband? “Best friend who they were and all my friends – the people who knew me for who I really was – sort of banded together and destroyed these guy’s russ bus.”

“I don’t think this story is really appropriate,” the mother says, but the boy on the table is smiling. Isak smiles back. 

“I think it’s epic!” He says. 

“It was pretty…” Again, he hesitates. He doesn’t want to make the mother upset, so he tries to tone down his enthusiasm. “It was pretty good revenge. But, it was also pretty childish. I’m just glad they didn’t beat those guys up because...no one deserves that. No matter how awful they are.”

“So I have to find some friends,” the boy says, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“No, you just have to wait til those friends find you. Til you find each other. You just hang on til then, and one day everything will be alright.”

“Isn’t that a little naive?” The mother asks and Isak takes a deep breath.

“I lived in a basement, I...When I finally had a bedroom I’d stay there all day. I had issues at home and I had issues inside my own head, and I...I never thought things could get better. But, today, I...I’m married to the man of my life, I help people, heal people, every day. Yes, it might be naive, but I also have some of the greatest happiness of my life because I waited and held on tightly to the friends who were good to me.” The mother still seems skeptical, but the boy looks...hopeful. Almost happy. Then Isak remembers he has a job to do. He jots some notes on the clipboard and quickly runs through protocol in his head. He’s...all done. They can go home. He sighs.

“So?” the mother asks expectantly. Isak taps his pen against the paper.

“Looks like just a simple break. Paracet should be fine for the pain, and it doesn’t need to be set or braced or anything like that so you can just keep some ice on it and it should heal up in no time.”

The two of them leave and Isak gets another patient, and another, and another, but he can’t get the boy out of his head. And the boy just keeps reminding him of himself. That week in second year where he was stuck in the hospital with a fever and broken ribs, Even by his side every moment of every day, stubble collecting on his jaw because he didn’t even want to take time away from Isak to shave. He remembers Vilde’s visit with Eva. How terrified she looked. It was only a year later Isak found out it was because Vilde was in the closet herself.

She came out during russ. Everyone thought she was still dating Magnus, but it turned out he’d been...covering for her the whole time. 

But Isak remembers how upset she was during that visit. She’d been jumpy. She’d kept asking if he needed anything. If he wanted baked goods, a hat, the list went on. She’d been repeating things without really remembering she’d already offered. 

When Sana visited, she recited a prayer, her right hand resting on Isak’s chest, and when she was done she gave him a slip of paper with one “if you ever need it.” Hers had been more standard, but the one she’d given seemed as if she’d looked for a while to find one that fit perfectly.

_A'oozu bi'izzatillaahi wa qudratihi min sharri maa ajidu wa uhaaziru_ “I seek protection in the might of Allah and His power from the evil of what I am experiencing and of what I fear.”

When he finally went back to the apartment, back to the real world, it was hard to escape this idea that people were out to get him. He had nightmares - he’d wake up in a cold sweat, shaking, and Even would hold him close until his heart stopped hammering in his throat. Sometimes he’d have two or three in the same night. Those nights were the worst because the next day Even would be visibly exhausted - grey-blue bags under his eyes, tired smiles. It was one thing for Isak to have a shitty time, it was another for him to force Even to have one too.

But after they broke all the windows on those guys’ russ bus months later, Isak started to feel...ok. Better. And things just kept getting better from there.

So today, he has hope. Hope for that little boy. And for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send us prompts [HERE](http://poeandbeaux.tumblr.com/ask)  
> [Chloe’s tumblr](http://chloebeaux.tumblr.com)!  
> [Priscilla’s tumblr ](http://boxesofflowers.tumblr.com)!  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> 1 That's fine  
> 2 I'm good  
> 3 Fucking tiny  
> 4 See you soon  
> 5 Correct
> 
> Send us prompts [HERE](http://poeandbeaux.tumblr.com/ask)  
> [Chloe’s tumblr](http://chloebeaux.tumblr.com)!  
> [Priscilla’s tumblr ](http://boxesofflowers.tumblr.com)!  
> 


End file.
